Ramachandra always thought up new ways to get what he wanted.
He pushed out two tears and let them run down his cheeks before he stepped into his father’s study.
“Dad..”, He said but before he could beg for something, his father interrupts him, “Ramachandra what is it you want now?”
“Damn it! I just cried two tears. For me that feels like pushing two kidney stones through my tear glands.” He tells his father.
He sits down in the chesterfield in his father’s study and watches his father reading the newspaper, online.
“I was wondering if it was all right if I can get a new car, a Ferrari this time, all my other friends from school got one from their parents.”
He asked his father, who acted to not hear him talking.
His father keeps reading the newspaper online and shares one of the stories,
“An (overweight) American tourist fell into a well in a small town near Delhi and got stuck, they needed a crane to pull him out.”
Ramachandra couldn’t care less, “That would have been bizarre, if it didn’t happen almost every single day.”
“The villagers complained that they water coming from the well now tasted like beef.”, His father reads out loud.
“It can get one as an early birthday present.”, Ramachandra said with a joyful voice.
“How about you get the hell out of here instead.”, His father said in a alarming way.
He began to cry for real this time, “Ah, fuck that hurts!” He said.
It was the most painful experience he had ever had, sadness mixed with not getting what he wanted didn’t happen very often.
It was like the tears were small babies he was giving birth too through his tear glands.
“What about a red bike instead?”, His father said.
Ramachandra stopped his crying for a moment so he could respond to his father’s suggestion, “A red bike? What am I going to do with that, no girl will think I’m cool if I ride a bike to school.”
His father clicked his newspaper to the next page, “I will put a Ferrari sticker on the side.”
“I want a Ferrari!”, Ramachandra yelled.
His father looked into his direction and removed his reading glasses, which was always a bad sign, “You’re eight, you’re not even allowed to drive yet!”
Ramachandra knew when he shouldn’t go any further so he went into the kitchen to ask his mother.
She was making brownies with a dash of curry, “Have you asked your father?” She said.
Ramachandra stepped onto a small step so he could look on the counter, “He’s to busy reading his newspaper.”
“Oh, did you hear about that American tourist?” She laughed.
“Yes, I have.”, His voice was a bit cracked from crying before and he didn’t wipe his face dry.
“Rama have you been crying dear?” She asked with a caring voice.
She grabbed his cheeks and lifted his head, “Why are you sad?”
“All my friends have a Ferrari and I don’t!”, he said right before shedding another set of tears.
“What do you mean Ferrari, is that a new kind of game console?”, His mother asked.
“No, like the car!”, He yelled back at her.
She stroked his dark sturdy hair, “Calm down Rama, but you already have a Porsche waiting for you when you turn twelve.”
“I know but everyone is into Ferrari now.”, Ramachandra cried.
“Oh does it hurt my little angel. Here have a curry brownie.”, She said and handed him a brownie.
He knew how these brownies tasted, and in one word, repulsive.
His mother woke him up by shaking his side, “Wake up Rama.”
He slowly opened his eyes, “What?”
“Happy birthday!” They both yelled.
“Take a look out of the window.”, His father said while his mom helped him out of bed.
Still a bit sleepy he walks over to his window, where he sees a blurry red shape.
He can’t believe it, it was a ferrari below his window.
“This is what you wanted right?”, His father asked.
His eyes adjusted some more and he began to see that it was only a scale model of a Ferrari that was in the palm of his father’s hand who was holding it in front of his face.
“If you work hard enough I will give you this.”, His father said followed by his laughter.
“We have a small present for you.”, His mother handed him a really small package.
He unwrapped it and it was a Ferrari keychain, his father laughed some more.
His father walked downstairs, his mother began to hug him.
“Mom!”, He yelled while trying to free his head from between her bosom.
“Can I still have a red bike?”, Ramachandra asked.
“Off course you can.”, His mother replied while pinching his cheek.
They walked down the stairs, “With a ferrari sticker on the side?” He asked.
His father was just done putting the sticker on the side of the bike, “Here is your ferrari.”
He pushed out two tears and let them run down his cheeks before he stepped into his father’s study.
“Dad..”, He said but before he could beg for something, his father interrupts him, “Ramachandra what is it you want now?”
“Damn it! I just cried two tears. For me that feels like pushing two kidney stones through my tear glands.” He tells his father.
He sits down in the chesterfield in his father’s study and watches his father reading the newspaper, online.
“I was wondering if it was all right if I can get a new car, a Ferrari this time, all my other friends from school got one from their parents.”
He asked his father, who acted to not hear him talking.
His father keeps reading the newspaper online and shares one of the stories,
“An (overweight) American tourist fell into a well in a small town near Delhi and got stuck, they needed a crane to pull him out.”
Ramachandra couldn’t care less, “That would have been bizarre, if it didn’t happen almost every single day.”
“The villagers complained that they water coming from the well now tasted like beef.”, His father reads out loud.
“It can get one as an early birthday present.”, Ramachandra said with a joyful voice.
“How about you get the hell out of here instead.”, His father said in a alarming way.
He began to cry for real this time, “Ah, fuck that hurts!” He said.
It was the most painful experience he had ever had, sadness mixed with not getting what he wanted didn’t happen very often.
It was like the tears were small babies he was giving birth too through his tear glands.
“What about a red bike instead?”, His father said.
Ramachandra stopped his crying for a moment so he could respond to his father’s suggestion, “A red bike? What am I going to do with that, no girl will think I’m cool if I ride a bike to school.”
His father clicked his newspaper to the next page, “I will put a Ferrari sticker on the side.”
“I want a Ferrari!”, Ramachandra yelled.
His father looked into his direction and removed his reading glasses, which was always a bad sign, “You’re eight, you’re not even allowed to drive yet!”
Ramachandra knew when he shouldn’t go any further so he went into the kitchen to ask his mother.
She was making brownies with a dash of curry, “Have you asked your father?” She said.
Ramachandra stepped onto a small step so he could look on the counter, “He’s to busy reading his newspaper.”
“Oh, did you hear about that American tourist?” She laughed.
“Yes, I have.”, His voice was a bit cracked from crying before and he didn’t wipe his face dry.
“Rama have you been crying dear?” She asked with a caring voice.
She grabbed his cheeks and lifted his head, “Why are you sad?”
“All my friends have a Ferrari and I don’t!”, he said right before shedding another set of tears.
“What do you mean Ferrari, is that a new kind of game console?”, His mother asked.
“No, like the car!”, He yelled back at her.
She stroked his dark sturdy hair, “Calm down Rama, but you already have a Porsche waiting for you when you turn twelve.”
“I know but everyone is into Ferrari now.”, Ramachandra cried.
“Oh does it hurt my little angel. Here have a curry brownie.”, She said and handed him a brownie.
He knew how these brownies tasted, and in one word, repulsive.
His mother woke him up by shaking his side, “Wake up Rama.”
He slowly opened his eyes, “What?”
“Happy birthday!” They both yelled.
“Take a look out of the window.”, His father said while his mom helped him out of bed.
Still a bit sleepy he walks over to his window, where he sees a blurry red shape.
He can’t believe it, it was a ferrari below his window.
“This is what you wanted right?”, His father asked.
His eyes adjusted some more and he began to see that it was only a scale model of a Ferrari that was in the palm of his father’s hand who was holding it in front of his face.
“If you work hard enough I will give you this.”, His father said followed by his laughter.
“We have a small present for you.”, His mother handed him a really small package.
He unwrapped it and it was a Ferrari keychain, his father laughed some more.
His father walked downstairs, his mother began to hug him.
“Mom!”, He yelled while trying to free his head from between her bosom.
“Can I still have a red bike?”, Ramachandra asked.
“Off course you can.”, His mother replied while pinching his cheek.
They walked down the stairs, “With a ferrari sticker on the side?” He asked.
His father was just done putting the sticker on the side of the bike, “Here is your ferrari.”
